The author swears off sex, only to find romance

A half-full bottle of red wine came uncorked in my bag, staining forever two books I at first thought were opposites.

"365 Nights," written in 2008 by Charla Muller, chronicles a promise she made to her husband on his 40th birthday -- sex every night for a year.

"Chastened," new by Hephzibah Anderson, describes, according to the subtitle, "The Unexpected Story of My Year Without Sex."

Now, their edges equally purple, I see both for what they are: stories of two women trying to come to terms with 21st Century Sex and all that it implies.

What's that, you say? What does it imply? Anderson writes: "Sex and its pursuit seem to have become such blood sports, their rules so confusing and their standards so exacting, that it is hard not to wonder occasionally whether it's worth it. At the same time, sexiness is so ubiquitous, it has become a bit of a turnoff. ... Everything from political dossiers to ballroom dancing has been 'sexed up.' You needn't even be getting any to feel jaded."

In the same way that Muller can think of no better gift for her husband than to physically submit, Anderson at 30 decides she's had enough of submission and wants to withhold a bit for awhile, to figure out what it's supposed to mean.

You might be surprised to learn, however, on page four of the introduction, that her "year without sex" will be only a year without ... let's just say she ultimately allows herself all the good vibes of sexuality but without being a socket for any man's plug.

"Chastened" is far more erotic. Remember the mere touch of someone's finger on your palm when you held hands as teenagers?

That's it. Anticipation. Less is more.

For another thing, Anderson has more than one guy hanging around, trying to seduce her. There's the Beau, and the Boy Next Door, and Rafiq, and Dan and Chris and N and the Quiet Guy. Some are described from memory. Some are renewed sparks. Some arise during her chastened year, fresh flesh and fresh possibilities for love which, no surprise, is what she really wants.

Often, she mentions more than one guy on the same page, and juggles their attentions on the same day.

She writes with an easy self-awareness, in emotional detail that may be too much for some readers. She reminds me at times of a young woman who knows she's hot, admiring herself in a dressing room mirror, turning this way and that, tilting her head to every angle.

In the end, I wish her well and pray that she keeps to herself whatever happens next. And I am glad -- more than that, deeply grateful -- to be married and long out of that exhausting game.